


Harry Potter's Perfect Detention

by lilyseyes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:13:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyseyes/pseuds/lilyseyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back at Hogwarts after the final battle, Harry feels restless.  Severus steps in to take him in hand.<br/>Rimming, Desk!sex, first time, teacher/student – Harry is 18 in this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Potter's Perfect Detention

**Author's Note:**

> Betad by Sevfan

* * *

Harry slipped along the corridor silently, his footsteps heading with no particular destination in mind, just walking as he tried to burn up the energy that made him restless and unable to sleep. While Harry didn't regret his decision to turn down Shacklebolt's offer to waive his N.E.W.Ts and join the Aurors, choosing instead to come back to Hogwarts to complete his final year, he was finding himself restless and wandering. Hermione had returned with him, as had Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, and most of the other seventh years. Ron, however, had been glad to accept an apprenticeship with his dad's department at the Ministry of Magic, happy to get out of sitting the nasty exams. Ginny had returned for her final year, but was clingy and prone to bouts of weeping, no longer the strong-willed witch of the past as she struggled to cope with her brother's death.

Not having Ron in the dorm at night had, for some reason, made Harry feel even more restless than usual. He'd taken to roaming the hallways under his Invisibility Cloak at night, despite Headmaster Snape's threat of detention if he should catch anyone out after curfew, which had been given at the Welcoming Feast. Unfortunately, the threat hadn't fazed Harry, who'd had enough detentions with Snape over the years to know a few more wouldn't kill him. A shiver of pleasure shot down his spine, and Harry frowned at the sensation. 

Harry had developed a strange fascination with Snape ever since he had bolted from the Great Hall on the night of the final battle to retrieve the headmaster's body and instead had found him still alive. Kreacher had been bent over Snape, gold locket glinting in the light of the single torch, bandaging the semi-conscious man's throat when Harry had stumbled back into the room, clumsy with fatigue. Harry had been gobsmacked to find out that Kreacher had made a promise to his Master Regulus that Kreacher would always help his lover, Severus Snape, if his assistance was ever needed. Harry's tired mind had tried to absorb that not only was Snape gay, but he had been the lover of Sirius' younger brother. 

Together, Harry and the ancient house-elf had managed to get Snape back to his bedroom next to the circular office and nurse him back to health. Hogwarts had also helped, sealing the Headmaster's office against all intruders until Harry was able to convince Minister Shacklebolt that Severus Snape was as much a hero as he was. Surprisingly, it had been Arthur Weasley who had helped Harry prepare his speech to be given in front of the Wizengamot, where Harry had persuaded the governing body to pardon Snape and reinstall him as headmaster. Once aware of Snape's true role, Minerva McGonagall had been more than happy to step down and reprise her role as Deputy Headmistress. 

It'd been the nights when Harry had sat silently beside Snape's bed that he'd done some hard thinking about his future. Harry knew he wanted to complete his education, but was lost beyond that. The idea of a career chasing Dark witches and wizards held little allure for him, and the thought of having to track down petty thieves like Mundungus Fletcher was even less appealing. 

Truthfully, Harry felt lost. He had no burning desire to pick up the relationship with Ginny that he'd ended after Dumbledore's death, or really, to start one with any female. His eyes were drawn more to the firm chests of the other blokes in the showers, rather than the soft breasts of the female form. His wanking fantasies and wet dreams began to feature tall, slender wizards with sleek, long hair hiding their features. Harry groaned softly as he felt his prick harden at the mere thought. He'd experimented with his fingers, but hadn't been bold enough to try anything else. 

A sound stopped him in his tracks and Harry listened hard, trying to place where the noise had come from. Harry backed up soundlessly as he gripped his wand, scanning the dimly lit area in front of him. His elbow brushed against something solid and Harry started to swing around, only to be caught by a long arm wrapped around his middle. Harry was dragged back against a hard, firm chest and the ensuing sensations made him lose the ability to breathe. It was one of his fantasies come true: a hand spayed against his abdomen and his arse pressed against a man's groin… a man with healthy tackle, as it was rapidly becoming obvious that this man certainly possessed.

"Mr. Potter. How… predictable."

The deep voice of Headmaster Severus Snape sent a shiver down Harry's spine, one he hoped fervently that the man would take as a shiver of fear, not the arousal he actually felt. Nagini's attack had given Snape's voice a throaty edge to it, making it incredibly sexy, Harry thought as he waited for doom to descend Snape's hand tightened fractionally and Harry didn't struggle, he just leaned back, enjoying the first-ever sensation of being pressed against another man's body. His prick twitched even as his mind boggled over the whole thing.

They stood there for a heartbeat, then one more, as images from the Occlumency lessons and Snape's memories swirled in Harry's mind, mixing with his own fantasies. Then Snape stepped back, hand sliding to Harry's hip before vanishing. Pushing his hood back, Harry turned to look up at the headmaster, disappointed to see that his face was in shadow.

"Ten points from Gryffindor; and as you have chosen to defy me once again, Potter, you will report to my office tomorrow after lunch for detention."

Nodding, Harry lowered his eyes as he moved to walk by Snape, his hand already adjusting himself furtively under the cloak as he did so. 

"Straight back to your dorm, Potter," Snape snapped, "before I double the points you've already lost!"

"Yes, Headmaster," Harry murmured, his feet picking up their pace as he rounded the corner until he was running flat out as if chased by demons.

* * *

The following afternoon, Harry stood in front of the oak door at the top of the spiral staircase and took a deep breath. His sleep overnight had been filled with images of a demanding, dark-haired lover, whose touch was experienced and firm: a lover who enflamed his body with every stroke. Squaring his shoulders and remembering that Snape was a bloody brilliant Legilimens, Harry raised his hand and knocked on the door.

"Come, Potter!"

Harry reined in his fertile imagination and dirty mind to banish the image the snapped words had created. Pushing open the door, he stepped into the office that held so many conflicting memories for him. It was neither as brightly lit nor as cluttered with baubles as it had been in the past, but the changes were subtle, as if Snape was still honoring the memory of Albus Dumbledore. Snape, however, didn't seem to be in the mood to let Harry stare around the room as he watched from a position near the corner of the large desk.

"Stop gawking, boy, and follow me!"

Harry's jaw dropped as he took in the slender figure in black trousers and a long frock coat. The cut-away tailoring of the coat emphasized the firm chest, flat stomach and long legs of the headmaster. Marveling at how a man of Snape's age – he had to be almost forty – looked so good, Harry forced himself to follow as Snape strode up the stairs. Pulling open a door Harry had never noticed before, Snape stood back and motioned Harry inside.

Torches flared as he stepped in and Harry could see there was a desk at one end and a raised dueling platform running down the middle of the room. It was a smaller version of the platform that had been set up in the Great Hall during Harry's second year; the highly polished wood was worn from time and usage. Reaching out, Harry brushed his fingers reverently over the edge of the waist-high dais.

"Take off your robes, Potter."

Harry jumped as the words were spoken very close to his ear, turning to find Snape shrugging out of the frock coat next to him. Unclasping his student robes, Harry was glad he'd put on jeans as he'd rather Snape see him as more mature than the schoolboy his uniform made of him. He quickly followed the headmaster's example and neatly folded his robes, placing them on the desk next to Snape's. 

"I will be testing your dueling skills this afternoon, Potter," the headmaster told him, as he stepped up onto the platform. "And I won't be coddling you."

Harry swallowed hard, not liking the sneer on Snape's face or the gleam in the dark eyes. Smoothing a sweaty hand down his shirt, Harry tripped up the two steps with his wand in his hand. Severus Snape looked elegant and lethal, a slender figure in black at the other end of the gleaming length of wood. Harry may have been responsible for the getting rid of Voldemort, but he knew that the man in front of him was a truly formidable and powerful wizard. Harry's heart beat faster as he tried to get ready mentally, no doubt the physical reaction was just in anticipation, he reasoned.

"Mr. Potter." 

Snape bowed at the waist and Harry followed suit, trying to remember the rules they'd been taught during the short-lived dueling club. Straightening back up, Harry just managed to jump out of the way of a stinging hex and pivoted around to cast a Jelly-Legs Jinx at the smirking headmaster. Snape easily blocked it and the duel was on. Harry charged ahead, pressing Snape back with a Bat-Bogey Hex and a Blasting Curse.

"Is this unrestrained aggression the reason for your nightly sojourns, Potter? Have you taken to stalking the hallways at night to curse unsuspecting first years?"

Snape's goading enraged Harry. The bloody git had no idea _how_ he felt but should know that Harry was far from being a bully! Harry dodged a Stunner as he cast a Stupefying Charm that was again blocked. Harry spun out of the way of an Impediment Jinx, and yelped as a Slashing Hex caught him in the hip. Not stopping to check the damage, he retreated and recast his shield but Snape was right there, crowding in on him. Losing ground steadily, Harry found he could only defend himself, countering every spell Snape threw at him. Sweat dripping into his eyes, Harry looked up, startled to find Snape almost on top of him.

" _Legilimens!_ "

Before Harry could strengthen his barriers, Snape was inside his mind. But unlike the vicious attacks of his fifth year, it seemed that the headmaster was more interesting in peeling back the layers of Harry's recent memories. It was less like invasion than a gentle riffling, but as his dreams and fantasies began to surface, Harry panicked. Images of his dark-haired lover parting his robes as Harry sank to his knees, greedily taking the man's huge prick into his mouth, moaning in arousal, made him shove back mentally against the intruder. 

With a nauseating swirl, Harry was suddenly thrust bodily into memories that weren't his. The horror of Nagini striking at him, the incredulous feeling of knowing that Harry Potter had become his staunchest supporter, and the disbelief at his reinstatement. Then Harry encountered a different type of image, one that was softly blurred around the edges – an image of himself naked and aroused being spun around and pressed against the stone wall of a hallway. Snape knelt behind him, parting his cheeks with a gentle caress and leaned in to swipe his tongue down the cleft of his arse. Harry was instantly hard as he watched that tongue lap at his entrance.

With an enraged bellow deafening him, Harry found himself thrown out of Snape's mind and laying on his back on the platform. Snape stood over him, nostrils flaring and hair swirling about his head, his slender fingers clenching on the wand in his hand. They looked at each other for several long minutes, Harry's eyes searching the incensed face for some sign of leniency, but he found none. Slumping back onto the floor, Harry threw his arm over his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't mean to…"

"Spare me your unrepentant inanities, Potter, and get up!"

Harry snorted, knowing what fate awaited him when he stood. "Seeing as how you're going to kill me anyway, Professor, does that thing with your tongue feel as brilliant as it looked?"

The bark of laughter was so unexpected that Harry removed his arm and sat up, warily eyeing Snape. The older man stared back at him steadily, hooded eyes raking over his face and down his body. Slowly, Snape extended his wand hand, sans wand, towards Harry. Eyeing it with uncertainty for a moment, conflicting emotions warring inside him, Harry gingerly took it. A jolt of something raw and needy seared his fingertips for an instant before Harry felt himself hauled to his feet.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Potter! Must you bleed all over everything?"

Snape let go of his hand and pushed Harry towards the steps. 

"To the desk, now!" Snape barked.

Harry stumbled but was able to catch himself as he tripped down the stairs. His prick was already hard and throbbing, the sight of the desk doing little to quell his rampant fantasies. His hip ached from the hex he'd taken and Harry braced his hands against it. There was a strangled sound behind him and Harry started to straighten, when a hand against his back kept him in place. 

"Undo your trousers, Potter, so that I can see the source of this blood."

The undeniable command in that throaty voice sent another shiver down Harry's spine, his cock twitching appreciably at the thought of being on display. Sighing, Harry reached around and slipped the button out of its hole and lowered the zip. Snape could only laugh at him and further humiliate him; it wasn't as if Harry wasn't familiar with the razor edge of that tongue. Hands tugged at his jeans, taking his pants with them and yelped as his erection caught on the elastic, before slapping back against his stomach. 

"This may sting," Snape announced as Harry felt the prickles of a strong cleansing charm spread over his groin and arse. He jumped as cool fingers traced the sting along his hip and thigh, Snape muttering a spell that made the skin feel warm and stopped the aching. Fingertips brushed across his arse and Harry heard the rustle of clothing before a hand at his waist pulled him back slightly. Both Snape's hands settled on his hips and Harry's breath hitched as he felt thumbs separate his cheeks.

"Perhaps you would have a better understanding if I let you judge for yourself how analingus feels, Potter."

The tip of a hot tongue tasted him from bollocks to tailbone and Harry couldn't stop the groan that erupted from him. Snape's tongue returned to lap at his entrance, thumbs spreading him even wider as Harry pressed back. It felt bloody incredible and Harry wanted more. Spreading his legs as wide as the jeans around his ankles would allow, Harry could only make sounds of encouragement as one of the thumbs pressed into him.

"Oh yes! Oh, fuck, more, Snape!"

The tongue lapped at his hole, one thumb was joined by the other, stretching him, exposing him. Harry whimpered as he bucked backward, his balls tightening as his cock throbbed with each stroke of that wicked tongue. Just as his eyes started to roll back in his head, Snape stopped and a hand tugged sharply on his balls. 

Harry yelped and swung around, halting the tirade on his lips as he found that Snape had stood up, opened his trousers and was freeing his own erection. His fantasies had not done justice to the thick, long cock that seemed to jump into Snape's hand and Harry's mouth suddenly watered. 

"Step out of your clothing, Potter, and kneel down."

Hastily doing as he was told, Harry knelt in front of Snape and didn't wait for permission, sighing as he leaned in to nuzzle the patch of wiry hair. Long fingers threaded through his hair as Harry took an experimental lick across the heavy sac, loving the texture of the soft, crinkly skin, before opening his mouth wide to take it gently into his mouth.

"I see now that I have been remiss in recognizing the proper form of discipline for you, Harry," Snape said softly as he moved his hips, rubbing the head of his cock along Harry's cheekbone. "It appears you are a filthy boy who needs to be punished in more – intimate ways."

Harry pulled back, his glasses askew as he looked up, opening his mouth to respond, when it was suddenly filled with the hot tip of Snape's prick. His hands came up and gripped the still-clothed thighs.

"That's it, Potter, open wide," Snape ordered, flexing his hips. "Use that tongue to better purpose than cheeking your betters. Think of how it is going to feel when I press into you, filling your arse, stretching you wide as I pound into your tight little hole."

Harry could only whimper as he began to explore his prize and what he lacked in experience, he knew he made up for in enthusiasm. His own cock twitched at each of the breathy noises that Snape made. Just as he wrapped a hand around the base of the wonderful cock, his tongue having discovered the slit, Harry felt Snape tug at his hair urgently.

"Up on to the desk," Snape told him, his voice low and raw.

Harry scrambled to comply and couldn't help smiling when he found a cushioning charm had been cast on the wooden top. Surprisingly, Snape helped him up, positioning him on the edge before flicking his wand over Harry several times. Yelping at the wash of magic that left him feeling clean and loose, Harry was startled when Snape moved between his legs, pressing him back and forcing him to fist his hands in Snape's black shirt and wrap his legs around Snape's waist. Cool hands slid underneath his own shirt, toying with his nipples as thin lips brushed his. 

Arching up, Harry opened his lips to the demanding mouth, drowning in sensory overload. One nipple was pinched hard, and his mouth was devoured as something larger than the fingers he had used in his past explorations nudged at his entrance. Blunt and wide, Snape's cock pressed into him. Harry whimpered at the burning pain until the head popped through the ring of guardian muscles and Snape gasped with him as Harry was slowly filled. Snape continued to kiss him possessively, stilling for a moment as Harry tightened his legs around the slender waist, pulling Snape in as deeply as he could. Harry rolled his hips, clenching his muscles experimentally around the thick cock. 

Snape ripped his mouth from Harry's with a snarl. "You will end this prematurely if you don't stop, you impatient brat."

Harry laughed, wrapped tightly in the arms of Severus Snape, realizing he felt truly alive for the first time since the final battle. He clenched his muscles again, knowing in this moment that he was in control of both their pleasure and it was a heady sensation as Snape – Severus – gasped and grabbed his hips, hard.

"Perhaps you just need to fuck me faster, Headmaster."

Snape took the challenge for what it was and pulled back before thrusting hard. Harry saw stars as the sliding cock rubbed against something inside him. 

"Oh fuck! Do that again!"

Snape smirked and thrust again, looking lean and dangerous, still clothed in black as Harry writhed under him. Loosening a hand from its death-grip around the back of Snape's neck, Harry reached between them to fist his own cock, once, twice, before arching up as he climaxed and soiling the front of that black shirt. With a roar of completion, Snape buried himself deep inside Harry, who felt the warm pulse of his release, before collapsing down on top of him. A silly grin curved Harry's lips as he turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to Snape's temple.

The older man reacted as if he'd been stung and straightened up. Stepping back, Snape found his wand, flicking it over himself first, efficiently removing all traces of their encounter. Harry's eyes burned as he took Snape's actions to be disgust at what had just transpired, and he was startled when a hand halted his attempt to sit up. A wave of the dark wand and Harry felt a gentle brush of magic pass over him and the hand then helped him up. Snape summoned his underpants and jeans, handing them to Harry without a word as his dark eyes bore into him. 

Silently, Harry pulled on his clothing and slid his feet back into his trainers, his body still humming pleasantly. He knew when someone was regretting their actions, Merlin knew, and was used to being brushed off by people when they were done using him. Retrieving his own wand from where he'd dropped it at the end of the duel, Harry turned his back on Snape and silently walked towards the door. Perhaps in time, he could just file it away as a fantasy and not let the perfection of what they had just shared eat at his heart.

"And where do you think you are going, Mr. Potter?" Snape's voice was deadly.

Harry stopped, shoulders rounded as it to ward off the rejection he was sure was coming. "I thought…"

A warm body pressed against him from behind; a hand settling on his hip. "Thinking seems to be one of your less spectacular accomplishments; I, on the other hand, have taken intelligent thought to a new level of accomplishment. I believe, after due consideration, that perhaps if I keep you in my bed, then you won't have the energy to roam the hallways at night, testing my patience."

Harry found he was grinning ear to ear, his body cheering and his heart expanding with acceptance. "Whatever you think would be best, Headmaster."

"Hmm, I like the way 'Master' sounds on your lips, brat…" 

_fin_


End file.
